than thirty seconds,” Fiona said, as she took the garments, gripping them like a lifeline.
“So sue me,” Angel said.
She put on the large hat, stuffing her hair inside, and wrapped the shawl around her, hunching over. “How’s this?” she asked.
The disguise wasn’t great. Nothing short of hair dye and a sudden drop in height would make her blend in with the locals.
Behind him, there were shouts. Montoya’s men. They couldn’t be far behind.
Taking her hand, he pulled her back into the throng of people. “Good enough.”
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